


Triptych

by the_dragongirl



Series: A Darker Image of the Galaxy [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, F/M, M/M, Multi, OT3, Polyamory, Sith AU, Threesome - F/M/M, swpolyamoryweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 09:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6605245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_dragongirl/pseuds/the_dragongirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sith Lord Obi-Wan Kenobi has been planning his vengeance in secret for years. Now, with help of his Apprentice Anakin Skywalker and Senator Padmé Amidala, his plans are coming to fruition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Anakin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MissPop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissPop/gifts).



Anakin breathes in, and lets the Darkness fill and swirl through his body like the air in his lungs. There’s a certain comforting familiarity to it by now. It is, after all, his favorite relic from childhood.

_“I will show you this secret, Anakin. Just as Qui-Gon showed me. And when you’ve learned it, when you’ve made it truly your own, you’ll never again have any Masters but the ones of your choosing.”_

He breathes out, and lets the Darkness slide comfortably under the shields of Light, just as he’s always been taught. Layers upon layers interweaving and concealing, nothing showing but what he wills.

_“The line of Bane are fools, just like the Jedi. They think you can only touch one aspect of the Force, as though the Force contains any such artificial separations. The true Sith, though, we’ve always known better that to accept any limits but those the Force itself gives to us. It’s why we’re strong, Anakin. It’s why we’ve survived.”_

And now, even here, in the very heart of the Jedi Temple, no one suspects what lies beneath the surface. After all, Master Kenobi and Knight Skywalker are true servants of the Light, are they not? Anyone with an ounce of Force sensitivity can see that.

_“And they never think to look any further. We can make a home for ourselves in the very sanctuary of our enemies, and they will welcome us with open arms. Their resources can be our resources, their strongholds our strongholds. And of course, we can make their children ours as well.”_

Anakin smiles at that. His Master had always been a firm believer in efficiency. After all, why go to the effort of training up an Apprentice from scratch when there are so many strong and willing Initiates who, with only a little guidance, would readily choose to follow their path? And it makes it so much easier to keep their line hidden across the centuries.

_“Though of course, it was far more than worth it to make an exception for you. Even then, you shone in the Force like nothing I’ve ever seen. Qui-Gon wanted you for his own, of course, and I was never one to deny him anything. I only wish we had not let ourselves become so distracted in the process. We should have been able to see Bane’s rabble coming, before they had a chance to get anywhere near us.”_

Privately, Anakin is not so sure. Qui-Gon may have been the one who showed Anakin’s Master their true path, but from what Anakin has been told, that fool Dooku had taken up far too much of Qui-Gon’s time in his younger days for the lessons from his true Master to take proper root. Qui-Gon may have known the path of the Sith, but he had never truly lived it the way Obi-Wan had. It might well be that, even without the Anakin’s presence, Qui-Gon wouldn’t seen Sidious’ mockery of an Apprentice coming until it was too late.

_“But we’ll have our vengeance for that soon enough. Already that bastard Sidious stalks around you like a predator stalks its prey. He thinks he’s going to twist you and make you another of his mindless little ‘students’. But we’ll show him differently, won’t we Anakin?”_

Anakin licks his lips at the memory. His Master is never more beautiful than when he lets the rage show through to the surface. It’s such a rare, precious sight.

_“He won’t be able to resist you. And when he makes his move, the Jedi will indeed fall, and then I’ll be waiting for him. I will see to it that the line of Bane ends once and for all. And you, of course, will be ready to pick up the pieces and carry on our line in my place.”_

Now that, of course, is the one part of his Master’s plan that is completely unacceptable, though Anakin knows better than to try and argue with him on it. Oh, he’s fully in support of tearing down this filthy Republic, and the Jedi Order with it. Already, he and his Master have laid the groundwork for what will come after. His brilliant, precious Padmé will make a wonderful Empress, and at her side Anakin will reshape the galaxy to their will. But he has no intention of letting Obi-Wan die to see the plan realized. And so, Anakin has made his own preparations. They will have their victory, but on Anakin’s terms, not on Obi-Wan’s.

_“It won’t be long now, Anakin. Soon, the revenge of the Sith will be complete.”_

Yes, it will indeed. And when it is over, Anakin will have everything he desires; his beloved wife on the throne, his beautiful Master in their bed and at their side, and all the galaxy laid out at their feet.

_“I’m so proud of you, Anakin. I know you won’t fail me.”_

No Master. We shall have our vengeance, and all else that we desire besides.

You’ll see.


	2. Padmé

Senator Padmé Amidala is putting on her armor. And it _is_ armor, though she doubts any soldier would recognize it as such. Each carefully arranged curl, each bead and stitch and fluttering hem, is another another bulwark against the battle to come. 

She has decided on gold for the occasion. Gold for power; gold for vengeance; gold for flame. The drape of the long, weighty skirts no longer hides the swell of her belly; instead, she displays her pregnancy proudly. This is how she wants history to remember her, she has decided: the mother of the Empire, the righteous flame who burned away the corruption at the heart of the old Republic so that a stronger dynasty may be built from the ashes. When people tell the story the Empire’s birth, when a thousand artists paint this scene in the centuries to come, the Golden Empress will be at the heart of it.

They have, of course, been preparing for this moment for years. Ever since Obi-Wan and Anakin showed her the rot beneath the rosy skin of the Republic, she has know this day would come. The corruption has invaded the very foundations of the democracy. It has wormed it’s way through the heart of the Jedi Order, the Senate, and the military. No part of the old Republic she once idolized remains free of the taint of the Baneite Sith. And so, like any good farmer tending an orchard, she will burn the infection away, to stop its spread and renew the land so that something pure may grow in its place

Any moment now, the word will come through. Senator Amidala will receive incontrovertible proof of the Chancellor’s perfidy, from none-other than one of the two Jedi knights he did not manage to slay in his treachery. Knight Skywalker will come to her with evidence that shows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Palpatine is the Sith Lord the Jedi have been hunting since the siege of Naboo, and that the past years of war were all a part of his plan to seize control of the Republic. It will show how his agents have infiltrated the government at every level, enslaving even the loyal Grand Army of the Republic, who were forced to carry out his tragic genocide of the Jedi Order against their will, with only a few liberated GAR troops retaining enough autonomy to hide the children in the Jedi Temple from the slaughter. He will tell the horrified Senator that only the brave actions of the war hero General and Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi were able to stop the Sith before his plans were complete, but that Master Kenobi was grievously wounded in the process.

Or that will be the official story, anyway. In reality, the necessary proof is already placed on a data chip which is securely hidden in the bodice of her gown. Some of it their slicers had actually managed to extract from Palpatine’s own computers; other parts had, by necessity, been forged. But it is no great matter. Thanks to a combination of threats, bribery, and judicious use of Force suggestion on the part of Anakin and Obi-Wan, all of it will hold up to scrutiny.

All she is waiting for at this point is Anakin’s confirmation that Palpatine is dead. Then this complex dance of political theater can begin. She will bring the information first before the Loyalist Committee, and then, with Bail Organa’s help and influence, before the Senate as a whole. All of the soft politicians will be thrown into pandemonium by the revelation of just how many of them have been puppets in this scheme. There will be panicked debates, and recriminations, and pointless attempts at official investigation. In the end, though, they will agree that the only solution is to grant complete and total emergency power to the one leader who always stood firm against Palpatine’s war-mongering. Padmé will give every show of reluctance but when even the Loyalist Committee insists that it is the only way, she will take the throne, and her Empire will begin.

She hates that Obi-Wan’s injury must be a part of this plan. Neither she nor Anakin had been able to find any way around it, though. Obi-Wan is so firmly convinced that his death is necessary in order for his vengeance to be accomplished that they have no hope of persuading him otherwise. And so, they have had to work without his knowledge. They can’t afford to have him available for questioning in those first few delicate days without being properly briefed, and they can’t brief him in advance without tipping him off. No, better that he remain safely unconscious in a medical facility for a few days while Padmé handles the difficult part, and awaken in a world in which his revenge has already been completed in full, and the new Empire is ready to welcome him with open arms.

He will like the role she and Anakin have chosen for him in the new order, she thinks. After all, she has seen the way he looks at Anakin in the rare moments he allows himself to think of anything but vengeance. She has even seen how he looks at her, when the three of them are wrapped up in a late night of planning, and he has had a little too much to drink. Yes, he will enjoy his place as their Consort, especially when she offers him an entire generation of Jedi younglings to teach in the ways of the Sith as a betrothal gift.

For her part, she can’t deny that she has desired him as well, can’t pretend that she and Anakin haven’t whispered in the night about what it would be like to have him between them, to take apart that eternal composure of his with the heat of their bodies. And with him at their side, they will ensure that the Empire is strong enough to endure, even centuries after they leave it in the hands of the child she carries.

It is, she thinks, as she secures a final ornament in place above her brow, exactly as Anakin said to her just before he and Obi-Wan left for this final confrontation. Soon, they will have all they desire.

Her comm beeps, and she smiles into the mirror. Time to begin.


	3. Obi-Wan

Obi-Wan Kenobi, Lord of the True Sith, is, much to his surprise, not dead.

At first, he’s not aware of much beyond that one salient point. He is not dead, which, really, he is fairly certain that his surviving was not actually part of the plan. That means something has gone awry. But even as that thought registers, he feels Anakin’s Force presence somewhere close by. He can sense the immense dark power roiling beneath the surface of his Apprentice’s thoughts, but the usual mixture of anger and passion doesn’t seem to be flavored with any hint of panic or worry, so whatever has gone amiss can’t have been too severe. Surely, if they had failed, he would feel _some_ hint of it in Anakin’s thoughts.

Then he feels the hand carding gently through his hair, and he relaxes further. Because he knows that hand. If Padmé is here, they must have succeeded. Anakin would never have risked bringing her to him otherwise. They have all been so careful to keep Padmé’s involvement in their plot a secret, so that her public image will be spotless when the time comes for the final stages of their plan to be implemented. The confrontation with that travesty of a Sith Sidious was too public for Padmé to be anywhere near him if they hadn’t managed to kill the bastard at last.

Or, at least, Obi-Wan thinks it was. He can’t exactly remember how it went at the moment. His whole body has that strange, floating sensation of being heavily drugged, and he’s just noticed that he seems to have a mask over his face. He is distantly aware of an ache in his torso that he has a strong suspicion might actually be agonizing if he were able to feel it fully. He also has an inkling that, if he could find his limbs right now, he might be able to feel an IV in his arm. As it stands, though he can’t particularly find it within himself to care about any such inconsequential details.

Obi-Wan feels Anakin’s presence move closer, and then hears him clear his throat. “I can feel that you’re awake, Master. You might as well open your eyes for a few minutes and let me give you update before you go back to sleep.”

Obi-Wan contemplates ignoring Anakin, because his eyelids feel ridiculously heavy at the moment, but he has spent years preparing his revenge on Sidious and the Jedi and the Republic who took Qui-Gon away from him, and he would hate to let a little thing like grievous bodily injury keep him from the knowing the outcome of his efforts.  And so, with great effort, he manages to crack his eyes open and turn towards the feel of Anakin’s presence.

Padmé is seated in a chair at his bedside, one hand still idly stroking his hair. She is, he sees, still heavy with the child she carries. Good. He can’t have been asleep that long if Padmé has yet to give birth. The expression on her face is more tender than he’s used to seeing her direct at anyone but Anakin, but he is unsure if that impression is genuine, or just a product of the drugs in his system. Anakin is standing beside her and looking down at Obi-Wan, his face tired, but his expression full of intense satisfaction. Out of habit, Obi-Wan looks him over for any signs of injury, and is pleased to see that, whatever else may have happened, his Apprentice apparently came out of it unscathed. That was, after all, the whole point of this endeavor. Defeating Sidious was supposed to Anakin’s Trial, the proof that he is ready to assume to title of Sith Lord and continue the lineage in Obi-Wan’s place.

Anakin grins when he notices Obi-Wan’s perusal. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. You’re the one who took a lightsaber to the gut, Obi-Wan.”

“Which, by the way,” Padmé interjects, “was an incredibly stupid thing to do. You’re just lucky that Anakin and I planned for that level of stupid from you, and had contingencies in place.”

Anakin chuckles. “Shall I remind you to yell at him for that when he’s not drugged, angel?”

Padmé’s lip twitches. “Yes, I think that would be best.”

“Anyway,” Anakin continues, “you’ll be pleased to know that Sidious is, in fact, dead, along with the Jedi Order, and the Republic.” He glances fondly down at Padmé. “The vote passed a few hours ago. We are now in the presence of her Serene Highness, Empress Padmé Amidala.” He turns back to Obi-Wan with a crooked grin. “It worked, Master. All of it. All of your years of planning and sacrifice, and it all occurred just as you said.”

The question must be clear in Obi-Wan’s expression, or else Anakin can sense his incredulity through their bond, because he adds, “Well, yes, other than that one little detail.”

Padmé frowns. “Did you really think we were just going to let you die, Obi-Wan? After all that you’ve done for us? After all that we’ve done for each other? You can’t possibly be _that_ stupid.”

“Well,” Anakin snorts, “maybe you can. But it was never going to happen.” His voice softens. “We were always going to ensure that you would be here to enjoy the fruits of your labor, Obi-Wan. After all, we’re Lords of the Sith! Why should we deny ourselves anything we desire, when we can have it all and more?”

Then Anakin picks up one of Obi-Wan’s hands and, to Obi-Wan’s shock, lays a gentle kiss on the knuckles. “Now rest, my Master. Padmé and I will be here when you wake.”

Padmé leans forward then, and, brushing his hair aside, lays another soft kiss on his forehead. “Listen to Anakin for once, Obi-Wan. Your part is done. Let us manage things for a while.” Then she leans closer, and whispers in his ear, “After all, we have _plans_ for you. And those plans need you healthy.”

Obi-Wan wants to protest; wants to order Anakin to explain the dark promise in his voice, or ask Padmé just what she means by _plans_ , but his eyes are slipping shut again of their own accord, and the feel of both of their presences in the Force is soothing him in a way he cannot deny.

His last thought before he slips back into unconsciousness is that at least that he can always ask later. For the first time since Qui-Gon’s death, time actually seems to be on his side.

 


End file.
